


the arrangement

by imjxebum



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Demon Jeonghan, Human Seungcheol, M/M, Non-Explicit Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:44:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imjxebum/pseuds/imjxebum
Summary: When Jeonghan lays his eyes on a human boy with lovely pale skin and ruby red lips, he knows that he’ll be his tonight.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 76





	the arrangement

Jeonghan absently swirls his drink and gazes out across the hazy club.

He sighs for what’s probably the hundredth time that night. He’s been sitting there for the past three hours, scanning his eyes over the crowd. Plenty have come and gone, but none have caught his attention for more than a few fleeting moments.

He knows that if he wanted he could have his pick of the lot. It’s easy in a setting like this, where inhibitions are lowered by the fog of alcohol. All it takes is a few moments of eye contact, with the corner of his mouth pulled up in the hint of a seductive smile, maybe the brush of his lips against their skin, and they’re his.

But it’s not any fun when it’s so easy.

So he prefers to wait until someone interesting catches his eye. Maybe a different scent from the others, a different look, or an unusual energy thrumming through their veins. He can normally _feel_ it when someone is different from the others and it always piques his interest, makes him more drawn to them.

After so many years of living, he figures he’s allowed to be picky. After all, he only needs to feed every couple of weeks or so—maybe three if he’s pushing it. If he had to feed more often perhaps he could stand to be less choosy with his meals.

But it’s been almost a month since his last meal and Jeonghan will be damned if he chooses the first human that crosses his path. How boring.

So, there he sits—eying the crowd with a measured disinterest from his booth in the corner. It’s his usual spot. He has a good view, but isn’t so conspicuous as to draw attention to himself.

The night drags on and still not a single human in the crowd catches his attention. If it weren’t for his hunger, he would have given up hours ago and went home to try again tomorrow night.

“Dammit,” he curses under his breath. Why did he put this off for so long? Be it as it is, he’s already struggling to keep himself restrained. He can feel the way his hunger is creeping up his throat and clawing at his stomach, how it wants to throw his body at the closest human and just _feast_.

Jeonghan gives it another twenty minutes. He’s stubborn like that.

Finally a quiet, frustrated growl slips between his gritted teeth. _Fine_ , he thinks, rising from his seat. _Let’s get this over with._

He has his eyes locked on a girl in a crowd (pretty enough but in a regrettably plain sort of way) when the arrival of a new group draws his attention. _Oh? What’s this?_ He pauses several steps from his booth to watch them.

There’s five of them in total. They’re all young, tall, and handsome. But he finds his eye drawn to one in particular.

He isn’t the tallest among them, but he walks with a confidence that fills the air around him. His skin is lovely and pale, accentuated by his dark hair and ruby red lips. The features of his face are strong and handsome.

Jeonghan knows as soon as he lays eyes on him that he will be his tonight.

The energy surrounding the boys is loud and boisterous. Which isn’t a surprise. This area of the city is known for its universities and it’s a Friday night. They’re probably here to relieve the stress of the school week, like most of the young people who come to this club.

Jeonghan walks over to the railing and leans against it, lazily draping his drink over the side. He watches as they progress through the first few rounds of drinks, laughing and chatting with one another. The only sign of his growing impatience is the finger that drums against the side of his glass.

His eyes never once leave the dark and handsome one. Even from here Jeonghan can sense the life pulsing in his veins and the strong beat of his heart. It’s difficult to be patient when all he wants to do is have his mouth on his neck, feel his pulse beneath his lips, and the brush of his soul—

Jeonghan shakes his head to clear his mind. _Get a grip_ , he scolds himself. He needs to stay focused or else his thoughts will begin to wander and his control will slip. He’s never been all that particular to humans, but he doesn’t really fancy accidentally murdering a club full of them tonight. 

He’s trying to distract himself from his hunger by sipping his drink when finally the moment presents itself. The other four boys get up from the bar to join the dance floor and leave _his_ boy behind to watch over their drinks.

_How convenient,_ Jeonghan thinks, a smirk playing on his lips.

He makes himself wait another few minutes to make sure the situation doesn’t change. And it doesn’t. The boy continues to sit at the bar, nursing his drink and gazing out across the dance floor, keeping a watch on his friends.

When Jeonghan pushes off from the railing there is a steady, dull pounding in his head. He holds his breath as he weaves through the maze of warm bodies, determined not to let their smells and the draw of their souls distract him from his goal. He feels unsteady as he descends to the lower level and it takes an embarrassing amount of his focus to stay upright.

“I’m such an idiot,” Jeonghan grumbles to himself. _Yeah, you are,_ he hears Minghao’s voice in his mind. _Jeonghan, you aren’t a fledgling anymore,_ Wonwoo’s voice adds, _you know better than to wait this long._ Jeonghan pushes their voices away, annoyed. Like he isn’t already suffering the consequences of his mistake already.

Thankfully the bar isn’t far to walk. As he approaches, he notices that the boy’s back is partially turned to him. It makes it easy for him to employ his favorite tactic.

“ _Oh!_ Whoops, I’m sorry,” Jeonghan quickly apologizes as he stumbles into his shoulder from behind.

A flash of surprise hits him when strong hands come up to his waist, stopping him from falling into him. Heat blooms across his skin where his hands touch him. For a moment, he can feel the whisper of his soul pressing against his senses and it sends his mind spinning.

His scent hits him a beat later, washing over him with the force of a tidal wave. It’s just as warm as his touch—winter spices, oakmoss, coffee—scents that welcome you in and invite you to stay. Jeonghan stumbles backwards a step, overwhelmed.

_Oh god,_ Jeonghan thinks as he strains against his hunger. The mix of his touch and his smell are sending his instincts into overdrive and oh how badly he wants to give in, to let them take over. _I can’t do this, this was a bad idea, I can’t_ —

“Whoa, you okay?” the boy asks, steadying him.

His hands pull away and Jeonghan’s mind clears a little bit. Panic comes over him as he looks up into his face (handsome, so much more handsome up close). What _was_ that? Why did his touch make him feel so dizzy and clouded? And _warm._

The boy looks at him, concern etched into his strong brow. A beat too late, Jeonghan remembers himself. He quickly plasters a shy, apologetic smile on his face.

“I—I’m okay,” he says. “Sorry for bumping into you. I’ve, uh, had a couple drinks.”

He raises his glass to show him his mostly empty glass. Truthfully, the alcohol is just for show. It’s nothing more to him than water is to humans, but he imagines that he probably looks pretty drunk anyway in his half hunger-crazed state and after whatever _he_ just did to him.

The boy returns Jeonghan’s smile. Although it’s not unkind, Jeonghan senses that it holds a measured politeness. He’s wary of him. And why wouldn’t he be? He just had some drunk stranger run into him from behind and strike up a conversation with him.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Me too.” He holds up his glass.

“What are you drinking? Let me buy you another,” Jeonghan insists. “As an apology.”

He looks up at the boy and it’s then that their eyes properly meet for the first time. And he’s surprised because _wow_ are his eyes pretty. They’re a deep, hazelnut brown.

Jeonghan knows that if his human eyes could in return see his eyes, his _true_ eyes, he’d be running away in fear. But of course with the glamour in place, he only sees what Jeonghan wants him to see.

Instead, when he meets his gaze, his eyes widen in surprise.

And that’s when his trap unfurls like the beautiful yet deadly leaves of a venus flytrap. When one of them meets his eyes, the same glamour that disguises his true eyes transforms his appearance to fit their ideal vision of beauty. They never notice the shift, of course. It simply strikes them like a sudden realization—how had they not noticed his beauty before this moment? 

Sometimes Jeonghan wishes he could see how he appears to them. Is he male or female? Is his hair long or short? What color is his skin or his eyes? It’s a mystery to him, but the effect is always the same. They fall helplessly under his spell, entranced by his beauty.

He sensed before that the boy was going to say no and turn down his offer of a drink. But after their eyes meet and the change happens, it’s all he can do to nod. 

“Yeah,” he says, bobbing his head absently in his shock. “Yeah, that’d be fine.”

Jeonghan flashes him his best smile and slides into the seat beside him. When they both have fresh drinks in hand, he holds his out toward the boy’s. “What should we toast to?”

The boy looks at him and a grin spreads across his face. “To a night well spent,” he says and clinks their glasses together. Jeonghan thinks he catches the hint of something suggestive in his gaze when their eyes meet over the rim of his glass.

“Do you go to university around here?” he asks then, leaning forward on his arm and tilting his head in curiosity. He always enjoys this part the most. The flirting. Drawing them in, playing with them. Turning them into putty in his hands.

As he asks this question, he plays along the edges of the boy’s mind. He doesn’t want to delve deep enough to hear his thoughts, because that spoils the fun of trying to guess them (he hates when it’s too easy, remember?). He just wants to go deep enough to find a name. 

But when he tries to cross the threshold into his mind, he’s met with a wall. Huh. That’s strange. Irritated, he pushes his power a little harder and tries to break past it, but it doesn’t budge. His thoughts are completely sealed from him.

The boy smiles and Jeonghan is struck by the odd feeling that there seems to be something secretive hiding behind it. 

_Interesting,_ he thinks.

There’s something different about this boy. He’s never met a human whose mind he couldn’t read. Or a human whose touch affected him like his did. Jeonghan isn’t sure if he should be worried about these things, but he’s undoubtedly intrigued. He’s starting to think this was a good idea after all.

“I do,” the boy says in response to his question, pulling him away from these thoughts. It takes Jeonghan a moment to remember what he asked him. “I go to Hongdae University. For primary education.”

Jeonghan’s face registers in surprise. “Primary education? I never would have guessed.”

“I love kids,” he says by way of explanation. His smile turns shy and if Jeonghan had a beating heart it might’ve skipped a beat. _Cute,_ he thinks. Yes, this was definitely a good idea. He’s a sucker for cute boys.

“Tell me more,” Jeonghan encourages him.

Normally this part is just for show, too. He pretends to be interested in their painfully dull human lives to disguise the fact that he’s just waiting for the first opportunity to drag them off to somewhere more private. That’s why he almost always prefers to go for someone on the dance floor. There’s usually less talking.

But this time is different. As the boy speaks, he’s entranced. By the way his eyes light up as he talks and by the honesty and openness in his words. He’s never heard one of these college kids talk so enthusiastically about their coursework. It’s actually kind of . . . _refreshing_.

Distantly, Jeonghan thinks, _Aren’t I supposed to be the one entrancing him?_ But he finds that maybe he doesn’t really mind at all.

“After that co-op, it really sealed the deal for me,” the boy finishes.

“I bet the kids loved you,” Jeonghan says. He can just imagine the flock of human children being as mesmerized by this boy as he is. “They were probably _all_ over you.”

The boy hums in agreement as he takes another sip of his drink. He holds Jeonghan’s gaze over the lip of the glass, his eyes glittering with something akin to amusement. 

As they talk, Jeonghan notices how they’ve slowly shifted closer and closer together—leaning in and brushing their knees against each other. The _aliveness_ radiating off him is magnetizing and Jeonghan wants to be pulled in even closer, close enough to have his smell wash over him again, close enough to feel his soul beneath his touch. 

And it seems he’s not alone in these feelings. 

“Hey,” the boy says, sitting his empty glass down on the bar. “Do you want to dance?”

He places his hand on Jeonghan’s thigh. Jeonghan sucks in a quiet gasp when he feels his soul pressing up against his senses through the thin fabric of his jeans. He swallows down the low growl that’s threatening to crawl up his throat. _God_ , he’s so hungry and this boy is driving him crazy.

“Yes,” he all but gasps. He wants to feel him pressed close, feel the warmth of his touch again. “ _Yes_.”

The boy grins. He takes Jeonghan’s drink from his hand and sets it down on the bar. Then, he replaces the drink with his hand. 

Jeonghan bites back a groan. His soul presses against his hand and oh how badly he wants to sink his teeth into his lovely pale skin and break the seal holding it in. How badly he wants to steal it away and make it _his_.

“Come on then,” the boy murmurs, pulling Jeonghan toward the dance floor with a gentle tug.

Despite the distant warning sirens going off in his head, Jeonghan lets him lead him into the undulating mass of human bodies. He’d probably let him lead him anywhere at this point, with the lure of his soul clouding his thoughts. 

He almost jumps ship when he feels the first of their souls brush against his senses. He doesn’t know how Minghao and Wonwoo always seem to resist them so easily. He’s practically shaking with effort it’s taking to not throw himself at the closest body. Well, one body in particular. 

_I can do this_ , Jeonghan chants to himself. _I can do this._

The only thing that keeps him grounded as they weave through the sea of the souls is the hand in his. Somehow Jeonghan is able to push away the pull he feels toward all the rest of them by focusing on the warm soul fluttering against his hand.

Suddenly they come to a stop and a moment later Jeonghan feels a pair of hands slip around his waist. They pull him forward and he stumbles into the boy’s arms with a gasp. His hands catch against his chest and Jeonghan feels his heart beating beneath his palm—strong and wonderfully, deliciously _alive_. 

He looks up and lets out a tiny squeak when he finds the boy’s face hovering much closer than he expected. He smirks at Jeoghnan’s reaction, then drops his mouth down to his ear. “I’m Seungcheol, by the way.” Low, seductive, _sexy_.

Through his soul-drunken haze Jeonghan has one thought. _Two can play at this game._

He suddenly turns around in Seungcheol’s arms and presses his back against his chest. Then he reaches up and slides his hand around the back of his neck. He smiles as he tips his head back against his shoulder. “I’m Jeonghan,” he murmurs. “Dance with me.”

A shroud of lust seems to have settled in Seungcheol’s eyes. “My pleasure,” he says as he replaces his hands on Jeonghan’s hips.

Jeonghan lets his mind wander away into the haze of Seungcheol’s touch. The music and other humans around them become only background noise to the sound of his beating pulse. It’s sweeter than any music and just as hypnotizing. If Jeonghan could get drunk, he has a feeling that this is what it would feel like.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Seungcheol murmurs as they move together.

Jeonghan leans his head back to fix him with a lazy smile. “Not as beautiful as you, love,” he murmurs in reply and lets his gaze drop to the other boy’s pretty red lips. He wonders if he tastes as good as he smells.

Seungcheol follows his gaze and the corner of his mouth pulls up. He leans in, bringing their mouths closer together. Jeonghan wonders distantly if he’s ever wanted to kiss a human more than he does right now. His eyes flutter shut when he feels Seungcheol’s lips brush against his.

As he tips his head back, searching for more of Seungcheol’s lips on his, he feels the other boy pull back. Jeonghan opens his eyes with a noise of frustration to find Seungcheol smirking down at him.

“Don’t teas—” he starts to whine, but the words cut off in a strangled gasp when he feels warm hands slip underneath the hem of his shirt. They lay flat against his skin, along the lines of his hips. Heat blooms where he touches and Jeonghan’s mind washes white with lust and hunger.

With more of his bare skin touching his, he feels his soul more keenly than before. It narrows his hunger to a sharp focus and makes him shudder in Seungcheol’s arms. He needs to get them someplace private _now_ before he loses the last of what little control he has left.

Seungcheol’s mouth brushes against his ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

It’s all Jeonghan can do to nod. Seungcheol keeps his hand around his waist as he leads them from the dance floor. And Jeonghan is glad for it, because he isn’t sure he’d be able to walk on his own.

Seungcheol starts to direct them to the front door, but Jeonghan stops him. “What—?” he starts to ask, but Jeonghan cuts him off with a shake of his head. “I have someplace better.”

Before he can protest, Jeonghan takes his hand and pulls him toward a doorway tucked away in a far corner of the club. It would be almost unnoticeable if someone didn’t know it was there. But that’s by design, of course.

Jeonghan meets the black-eyed gaze of the male guarding the door and gives him a tight smile. _At least try to be polite, Jeonghan,_ he hears Wonwoo say. Stupid Wonwoo, always mothering him. It’s not _his_ fault he doesn’t feel like dealing with Junhui right now. Not when he has other, more important things on his mind.

_Hello, Jun,_ he greets him. Trying to be polite, like Wonwoo would want.

_Jeonghan,_ Junhui replies. He drags his eyes over Seungcheol with a gaze that’s much too friendly for Jeonghan’s taste. _Pretty one you’ve got there. Care to share?_

Jeonghan presses his lips into a thin, impatient line. _Fuck off, Jun. He’s mine._

So much for being polite.

Jun huffs out a short laugh. _Only kidding. You clearly need it anyway. Go ahead._ The other male steps aside to let them pass, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches them go.

Thankfully the exchange happens so quick that Seungcheol doesn’t seem to notice that they just stood there in complete silence having a telepathic conversation. Not that he’d notice anyway with Jeonghan’s spell of lust impairing his inhibitions.

“This way,” he says, leading a willing Seungcheol down the hallway.

He finds them a room that he senses is unoccupied. “In here,” Jeonghan says, pushing open the door and pulling Seungcheol in impatiently after him. Through his delirium, all he can think about is how desperate he is to feel his hands on him again. He’s shaky and unsteady on his feet and Seungcheol’s heartbeat is thunderous in his ears.

“I’ve been coming to this club for years. I had no idea this was here,” Seungcheol says, blinking at the room as if he’s wandered into a dream.

It’s small, but comfortable. The lighting is kept low and intimate and the walls are draped in dark, shimmering silks. Other than the plush ornate carpet beneath their feet, the only other decor is a single chaise in the center of the room. No bed, of course, because this room was designed to serve a different purpose.

“It’s here just for us,” Jeonghan murmurs as he reaches up and slips his arms around Seungcheol’s neck. A sensual smile plays across his lips.

“Oh, is it?” Seungcheol says, his eyebrows quirking in amusement. His hands come up to Jeonghan’s waist and he pulls him up against him. “How convenient,” he murmurs as he leans down and brushes his lips against Jeonghan’s.

This time Jeonghan doesn’t let him get away so easily. He surges forward to capture Seungcheol’s lips in an urgent kiss, dropping any and all pretense to kiss him unabashedly like he wanted to when he first laid eyes on him. Seungcheol makes a noise of surprise at first, but quickly meets Jeonghan’s pace, pulling him in closer and kissing him back just as passionately.

They pause only long enough for Jeonghan to lay back against the cushion and pull Seungcheol down on top of him.

Seungcheol’s lips somehow find their way to his neck. Jeonghan’s eyes slide shut and he reaches up to tangle his fingers in Seungcheol’s hair as his warm mouth drags down the length of his neck. A strangled gasp escapes his lips when he bites down on a sensitive spot at the base of his neck.

“So beautiful,” Seungcheol murmurs as he soothes the bite with a kiss. He trails more of them back up his neck and catches his lips in another breathless kiss.

“Tell me,” Jeonghan huffs against his lips. “Tell me how I look to you.”

Seungcheol hums in consideration. With Jeonghan’s influence settled over him, he doesn’t bat an eye at the strange question. He pulls back a little to take in his features, a look of appreciation in his eyes. “Well,” he begins, “you have a beautiful face structure, cheekbones carved by the gods.”

Jeonghan hears the teasing in his voice and makes a noise of indignation. Seungcheol laughs in response, the sound breathless and amused.

“And,” he continues. While he speaks he slides his hands up underneath Jeonghan’s shirt. Jeonghan keens up against his touch with a needy whine. Everything feels heightened by his hunger and their proximity and he wants more of it. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to get it out of his head—how this boy’s touch made him feel.

“Your nose is cute and small.”

Jeonghan almost snorts, recalling how Minghao teased him for his small nose not so long ago. But then he remembers that Seungcheol isn’t describing his true appearance. He’s only describing the image of him he sees through the glamour. Any resemblance to his actual features is only a coincidence.

Jeonghan isn’t sure why that disappoints him.

While Seungcheol slips his hands along his sides, leaving a trail of wonderful heat in their wake, he leans down and returns his lips to his neck. “Your hair is silver,” he murmurs as he splays kisses and bites against his skin. “Freshly dyed. The color looks good on you. Really good.”

Strange. He dyed his hair that very color only a few nights ago. But again he quickly plays it off as a coincidence.

“What gender?”

Seungcheol laughs. _What a lovely sound,_ Jeonghan thinks. “Definitely boy.”

Jeonghan is a little surprised. He wouldn’t have guessed that his ideal vision of beauty would have been male. Not that he’s one to judge. His only preference when it comes to humans is a beating heart.

“And your eyes,” Seungcheol says, pulling back again to look at him.

_I love the way he looks at me,_ Jeonghan thinks, meeting his heavy lidded gaze. Like he’s the only person in the world Seungcheol wants to look at. Jeonghan would never admit it to Minghao and _certainly_ never to Wonwoo, but maybe the reason he enjoys this so much more than they do is because he craves the attention. He loves making them fall for him, wrapping them around his finger.

“Are black,” Seungcheol finishes. Beneath him, Jeonghan goes still. “Endless black, like the night sky. Beautiful, otherworldly.” He pauses and smiles. The looking is all too knowing and Jeonghan has a horrible, creeping feeling about it. “Not human.”

Jeonghan gapes at him. He knew. This whole time he knew.

“You can—you can _see_ me?” he stammers. It makes sense now—the secretive glances, the concealed thoughts. But if he knew what he was, then surely he must have known his true intentions.

Fear washes through him, sobering and icy cold. He must be here to kill him. There’s no other explanation.

Seungcheol catches the panic in his eyes and he holds Jeonghan’s waist just a little bit tighter, preventing him from fleeing. “No, no, please don’t think that I want to hurt you,” he says quickly. Then, he laughs a little. “I don’t know if I even _could._ No, I want to help you, not hurt you.”

Jeonghan doesn’t understand. Help him? How? “What do you mean?” 

A soft smile makes its way onto Seungcheol’s lips. He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair from Jeonghan’s eyes, tucks it behind his ear. Then, he caresses the same hand across his cheek. It takes all of Jeonghan’s will to not close his eyes at the feeling. “I can see how hungry you are. I want to help,” he murmurs.

“Why would you want to help?” Jeonghan asks. His voice comes out raspy and strained. _Dammit_ , why is he letting this boy affect him so much?

Seungcheol’s expression turns sheepish. “Because,” he says, “I know how it feels. When you, ah—you know.”

_Suck your soul out through your neck?_ Jeonghan finishes.

Because of course there isn’t anything else he could be talking about. But it doesn’t make any sense! How could he possibly know what it feels like and still be alive to tell him about it? He thinks about all of the humans he’s preyed on throughout his lifetime. There hasn’t been a single one he hasn’t fed on until they were empty and lifeless. He didn’t even know that there _were_ any of his kind who didn’t do the same—Wonwoo and Minghao included. It goes against everything he thought he knew about his kind.

Probably sensing his confusion, Seungcheol goes on. “I had an arrangement. With a roommate. He, uh, was busy with his studies. Pre-med. And he didn’t have time to go out and, er, _hunt_. So I helped him out. He was the one who taught me how to protect my thoughts in case I ever met another like him. He taught me to see past the glamour, too. He figured it wouldn’t be very convenient to our arrangement if I accidentally died.” He laughs a little at this part.

Jeonghan is stunned. He had an _arrangement_ with one of his kind? He can see how it benefited his roommate, of course, but he’s failing to see what Seungcheol got out of it.

“Why?”

The haze of lust creeps back into Seungcheol’s eyes. He drags his eyes over Jeonghan’s face, the want blatant in his expression. “I liked it,” he murmurs.

Jeonghan swallows. His mouth feels dry all of the sudden. “And how do you know I won’t kill you?”

Seungcheol smiles. Then, he dips his head back down and brushes his mouth along the column of his neck. A shudder runs through Jeonghan when he feels his hot breath fan across his skin. “I trust you,” he murmurs and follows it with a kiss, right below his ear.

“Y-You shouldn’t,” Jeonghan gasps. Suddenly he can’t get it out of his mind—the image of Seungcheol’s deep brown eyes staring up at him, vacant and lifeless. All the warmth in them gone.

This is the first time he’s ever cared about not killing a human before. But if they proceed like Seungcheol clearly wants them to, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop. Once he gives himself over to his hunger there’s no reigning it back in. He feeds until there’s nothing left.

“I trust you, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol repeats. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

He sounds so sure of it that Jeonghan finds himself slowly starting to believe him. If his roommate could do it without killing him, surely he can do the same, can’t he? And, _god_ , how badly he wants to say yes.

“If I kill you, it’s your fault,” he grumbles.

Seungcheol pulls back. His eyes glitter with excitement. “So it’s a yes?”

After a moment, Jeonghan nods. He feels all his resolve fade away. Truthfully, he doesn’t know if he could have said no even if he wanted to. Not with Seungcheol’s hands still hot against his skin and the draw of his soul making it difficult to focus on anything else. He wants this, _needs_ it. Badly.

A grin lights Seungcheol’s face. “Nice,” he says and Jeonghan thinks it may be the dorkiest response he could’ve given. He’s about to make fun of him for it, but the other boy leans in and cuts him off with a kiss.

It quickly turns into something more desperate. Seungcheol’s mouth is urgent against his, kissing him until he’s breathless and panting against his lips. He catches Jeonghan’s bottom lip between his teeth and earns himself a whine when he gives it a light tug. Jeonghan’s hands find their way back into his hair, wrapping around the soft strands. He kisses Seungcheol back just as passionately, getting lost in the feeling of his lips on his. If he weren’t so hungry he could probably do this for hours, because kissing him? It’s _addicting_.

But Seungcheol knows as well as him what his body really needs right now. Strong hands slide around his waist, holding him gently yet firmly as he flips them over—reversing their position so Jeonghan is sitting on top of him.

Seungcheol’s eyes are heavy with want when he says, “Go ahead.”

Jeonghan needs no further encouragement. Without a word, he leans down and recaptures Seungcheol’s lips in his. While his fingers set to work undoing the buttons of his shirt, he reaches into his mind. This time when he teases along the boundaries, he finds no wall standing in his way. Seungcheol lets him in.

When he hears the thoughts occupying the other boy’s mind, heat pools in the pit of his stomach. If he weren’t so hungry maybe they would have time for _other things_ as well. If he doesn’t accidentally kill Seungcheol tonight maybe they eventually will. He has a strong suspicion that Seungcheol would like that just as much as he would.

When he finally works the last button undone, he sits back to admire the body laid out beneath him. “Wow,” he murmurs as he slowly traces a finger down Seungcheol’s defined chest and along the strong muscles of his stomach. He stops just shy of the waistband of his jeans and smirks. “Impressive.”

Seungcheol shudders beneath him. “Quit teasing,” he grumbles. 

_Not a chance,_ Jeonghan thinks.

“I was wondering,” he says casually as he drops his lips to Seungcheol’s neck. His scent is so strong and his exposed neck oh so enticing, but Jeonghan intends to take his time. He’s enjoying this too much. “This whole time,” he says as he ghosts his mouth over his skin. “ . . . was I really not affecting you at all?”

“Oh, you’ve been affecting me—don’t worry,” Seungcheol says, breathless. 

Jeonghan pulls back. He smirks when he takes in the other boy’s hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. He’s barely touching him and yet he can sense how aroused he is. He suspects that if he were to shift his hips back just a little bit and grind down against him, he would find Seungcheol well on his way to a hard-on. But he isn’t _that_ evil, don’t worry.

“Just curious,” Jeonghan says nonchalantly.

Seungcheol opens his mouth to say something in response, probably to encourage him to get on with it already, when Jeonghan seizes the moment of distraction. In a flash, he dips down and sinks his teeth into his neck.

A cry of pain falls from Seungcheol’s lips.

But Jeonghan works fast, slipping inside his mind and replacing the pain with pleasure. A moment later, he feels Seungcheol’s body relax beneath him. A low moan slips from his lips. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” he groans. His hands slide up the back of his shirt and his fingertips dig lightly into his skin. 

Assured that the other boy is comfortable ( _more_ than comfortable, clearly), he proceeds.

With the seal keeping his soul bound to his body broken, Seungcheol’s soul rises willingly to meet Jeonghan’s call. His eyes flutter closed when it begins to flow into him, filling the sharp emptiness inside him. It’s even better than he imagined—pure and strong, colored with warmth and kindness. As he eagerly devours it, he reaches up and grips Seungcheol’s shoulders.

As for the boy beneath him, breathless gasps and moans fall from his lips as Jeonghan washes his mind in endless waves of pleasure. He normally doesn’t put this much effort into making sure his prey’s comfort is taken care of, but he wants this time to be different. This time he’s _enjoying_ making him feel good, enjoying all of the lovely sounds he’s making because of him.

Jeonghan lets himself be carried away by a pleasure of a different sort. He hadn’t realized just how starving he was until he feels his strength being restored by Seungcheol’s soul. He loses himself in the bliss of it—of his soul flowing into his body, enveloping him in its warmth, filling him with its delicious strength. He wants all of it and he wants it to be _his._

Distantly, he’s aware when Seungcheol’s hands fall away from his back. He can sense his heartbeat beginning to slow and the life force fading from his body, but he doesn’t want to stop. He _can’t_ stop. Not when he hasn’t had his fill yet, not when there’s still dregs of his soul left to consume.

But then he suddenly remembers it—the image of Seungcheol’s brown eyes staring up at him, vacant and lifeless. All the warmth in them gone. And then it hits him, how very _wrong_ the image is.

Jeonghan wrenches away from his neck with a gasp.

With his senses returned to him, he sits up. Panic washes over him a moment later. “Oh, no,” he breathes as his gaze falls on Seungcheol’s limp form. He’s still, much too still. “No no no! Oh god, what did I _do?”_

He reaches out with his hands and his mind, desperately searching for signs of life. A pulse, the warmth of a soul, _anything._ But he feels nothing. The body beneath him is empty and lifeless. Dead.

_I told him!_ he thinks as he drops his face into his hands in despair. _I told him this wouldn’t work! I warned him it was dangerous, that I wouldn’t be able to stop if I_ —

Jeonghan freezes. 

There he suddenly feels it—the flutter of life. It flickers for a moment, then fades again. Jeonghan sits there, not daring to move an inch or even breathe as he strains to feel it again. _Please_ , he thinks. _Please be alive._

A moment later, it happens again. Like the tiniest flame flickering alive in core of Seungcheol’s heart. But this time instead of fading, it catches. 

Right now it’s barely more than a whisper, like the promise of the return of spring after a cold and desolate winter. But it’s enough. He’s going to be okay.

Jeonghan drops his head against Seungcheol’s shoulder and sobs with relief.

❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅

Three days later, Jeonghan is curled up in an armchair in the corner of his bedroom when a quiet sound startles him awake.

He opens his eyes to find Seungcheol sitting up in his bed, blinking the sleep from his eyes. His hair is mussed and his borrowed shirt is half hanging off his shoulder. Jeonghan might coo at how cute the image is if he wasn’t so relieved that he’s finally awake. And, more importantly, alive—blessedly, wonderfully _alive_. 

“Jeonghan?” he says, confusion evident in his tired voice. “Where am I?”

Jeonghan rubs at the back of his neck. “Um, I brought you back to my apartment. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t know where you live and I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“How long have I been asleep?” Seungcheol asks.

Asleep is kind of underplaying it, in Jeonghan’s opinion. _Try on the brink of death_ , he thinks as he recalls the worry and the guilt he’s felt over the past few days as he waited and hoped that Seungcheol would regain consciousness.

_This is a terrible idea,_ Wonwoo had said when Jeonghan called him and Minghao in a panicked frenzy and begged them to come over. Needless to say, they were both a little surprised to find a human boy lying unconscious in his bed. 

Jeonghan had carried him there himself—a feat that he had Seungcheol himself to thank for. Earlier that evening it never would have been possible, but with his strength restored by his soul he managed it without a sweat. 

Minghao, being the better friend of the two as usual, seemed to understand. He laid a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder and said, _He’ll be fine._

Jeonghan is thanking his lucky stars that he was right.

“Three days,” he says in a small voice. He doesn’t know how Seungcheol will react after hearing that he nearly killed him and then basically kidnapped him away to his apartment for three entire days. He’s been worried sick about it since he brought him here.

“Oh,” Seungcheol says. “That’s not so bad.”

Jeonghan gapes at him. “ _Not bad?_ ” Did he hear him right?

Seungcheol gives him a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Jihoon knocked me out for like a week once. He said he was pretty convinced I was going to die.”

“I can imagine,” Jeonghan says weakly.

Seungcheol’s expression softens when he sees the look on Jeonghan’s face. “I’m sorry,” he says gently. “For worrying you.”

“It’s okay,” Jeonghan replies, even though none of this feels okay to him. He feels like a creep. He should just take Seungcheol home so they can both forget that this ever happened. It was a mistake to approach him in the club.

He stands and gathers the folded pile of Seungcheol’s clothes from on top of his dresser. Then he walks over to his bed and holds them out to their owner. He avoids his eyes as he says, “Here. I washed them for you. I’ll take you home if you feel okay to stand.”

Seungcheol looks at the clothes. Then, he takes them and sets them down beside him. 

Jeonghan’s eyes flick up to his in surprise. He’s about to ask him what he’s doing, because doesn’t he want to leave? Jeonghan knows that he certainly would if he was in his position. But his voice cuts off in a surprised squeak when Seungcheol takes his hand and pulls him down on top of him.

“Jeonghan,” he murmurs, reaching up to tuck a piece of silver hair behind his ear. Jeonghan recalls how he did the same thing a few nights ago and the memory makes his face feel warm and flushed. “I’m not upset with you.”

“But you _should_ be,” Jeonghan replies, feeling pretty upset himself. “You should be running away from here, getting as far from me as possible. I almost _killed_ you, Seungcheol!”

As he smiles up at him, Jeonghan wonders if he’s ever seen anything more beautiful than the sight of Seungcheol’s dark brown eyes alight with life. They barely know each other and yet he’s looking at Jeonghan with such a warmth and affection. Jeonghan just doesn’t understand it.

“But I didn’t die, did I?” he murmurs.

Before Jeonghan can say anything else in protest, Seungcheol leans up and kisses him.

It’s a short kiss—different from the heated ones they shared before, but it’s just as dizzying and just as intoxicating. When Seungcheol pulls away a moment later, Jeonghan makes a noise of disappointment. It makes a pleased smile tug at the corners of his lovely, red lips.

Jeonghan would tell him not to tease if he weren’t so damn _confused_.

“So . . . you don’t hate me?” he asks, his voice quiet with uncertainty.

“Jeonghan, why would I hate you? I _offered_ to help you,” Seungcheol replies. Then, a shadow of the desire Jeonghan remembers seeing in his eyes on that night three days ago enters his eyes. “Do I need to remind you how much I wanted it, too?”

A shiver runs through Jeonghan as he remembers all of the pretty noises the other boy made when he let him into his mind. And he remembers the _other things_ he wanted to do with him, too, if given the chance.

“I could remind you now, if you want,” Seungcheol murmurs, a seductive smile on his lips.

As he says this, his hands slip up under the back of Jeonghan’s tee shirt. He isn’t hungry anymore and won’t be for weeks, but the effect is all the same. The warmth of Seungcheol’s touch and the brush of his soul sends his mind spinning.

“Or better yet,” he goes on. “I could let you feed off me again.”

Jeonghan pulls back from him, aghast. Does this boy have a death wish? He’s about to tell Seungcheol just how _fucking insane_ he thinks he is when he catches the amused look on the other boy’s face.

“Only kidding,” Seungcheol says and grins when Jeonghan makes a noise of indignation. A beat later, he leans up and brushes his lips along his jawline, right by his ear, drawing a quiet whine from Jeonghan. “But I _was_ serious about the first part.”

For the second time that week, Jeonghan feels himself falling helplessly under his spell. The irony isn’t lost on him.

“I think I’d like that,” he whispers as he leans in to capture the human boy’s troublesome wandering lips with his.

Later, when they’re tangled up together, clothes discarded on the floor, Seungcheol asks, “But you will call me, right? The next time you’re hungry?” His expression turns shy as he adds, "You could call me if you're not hungry, too."

Jeonghan’s mouth pulls up in a teasing smile. “Are you proposing an _arrangement,_ Seungcheol?” he says as he traces his finger across the defined plane of his chest.

Seungcheol shudders under his touch. Then, he captures the offending hand in his and brings it to his mouth. “I’d like that,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to his fingers. “I’d like that a lot.”

Jeonghan thinks that maybe he would, too. But that’s a conversation for another day. For now, he’s more preoccupied with wrapping his arms around Seungcheol’s neck and pulling his smiling lips in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! This is my first fic for the Seventeen fandom—I hope you liked it! It was inspired by my love of Cheol being absolutely weak for Jeonghan (even tho he's fully aware that he's an evil incubus who wants to suck his soul 🤔😂)
> 
> Did you have a favorite scene or moment? I would love to read about it in the comments! Pls know that I love reading your comments & I will try to make sure I respond to every one!
> 
> Thank you for reading!! 🥰
> 
> Find me on tumblr <https://leaderscoups.tumblr.com/>


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